


things only women know

by rawquelicious



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternative Ending for something that hasn't ended yet, Ancient Egyptian Literature & Mythology, Force Bonds, Future Fic, Gen, Old Age, Rey as a legend, Soulmates, egyptian lore in space, old woman!rey, please do not be mistaken, seriously don't trust those tags there is no romance here, there is almost 0 romance in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawquelicious/pseuds/rawquelicious
Summary: Years after the war is over and the Rebellion has won, Rey visits a planet where the Force manifests itself physically, as a red string that connects everyone to their soulmate.Or: Rey finds a student, and they talk about the war, the Force, and the red strings that bind us.





	things only women know

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I am sorry if you ship Reylo and you clicked this fic expecting romance. I'm also sorry if you clicked this fic expecting an actual fanfic, and not just a socratic excuse for me to talk about the Force through Rey.
> 
> Basically, I am sorry.  
> And I am sorry for all the cats in this fic.
> 
> This was inspired by the wonderful meta and thoughts by [corseque](http://corseque.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, so go check her out.

 

Years after the Rebellion succeeded, when Rey’s life is settled and the people of the universe are learning to live again with the bureaucracy of democracy, she goes to a planet where everyone can actually see a portion of the Force, as a red string that connects people to their soulmates.

The red string is not physical, but it is clearly visible, especially at night, where the translucent glow makes the whole planet look red. Poe, who Rey is accompanying in this diplomatic mission, chuckles and comments on how fun it would be if it were an actual string, just imagine if everyone was tangled all the time. It’s even funnier because the habitants of this planet have distinct cat-like features, and there’s a lot of jokes about yarn that the cats regard with the cold indifference of a people who have heard all of that before.

Poe finds the real-life nuisance of True Love hilarious, but he still preens and stands taller when, after an hour on this planet, a faint red string shows between him and Finn, and it gets stronger every passing minute. Finn smiles back and glows when his husband pulls on the string. Another string connects Finn to Rose, and she laughs as the three of them tumble through the palace to find accomodation, like they are still soldiers sleeping in cots, and not diplomats, politicians, fixers. The palace where they are staying is built for the heat of this capital city, a tall build of marble, with airy linens separating the open space. The massive columns of the palace have nooks and steps, and later Rey understands that this is because the cat-people are more comfortable climbing and jumping than walking on the floor, and that’s why the palace always looks empty. After all the columns, and the marble, at the center of the palace, there is an interior garden of colorful flowers and huge palm trees, with trickling rivers of water even though there is a desert surrounding this city on one side, and a vibrant jungle on the other.

It’s beautiful, and they tell the cats so, as they nod and keep silent.

Rey is happy that she is not the one having to establish diplomatic relations with this enigmatic people. 

Rey’s soft and worn Jedi robes conceal her almost completely from stranger’s stares, but it only makes her more interesting to cats, especially since there’s no red string connecting her to anyone, not even one that extends to the sky, out of sight, like the people in their company that have left lovers behind at the base. 

Everyone knows what was Rey’s role during the war, and everyone knows what she’s doing travelling across the universe: trying to connect people to their legacy, to the Force, and trying to find children to teach. So, she is used to being watched, and she watches the cats back, waits for someone to bring a child to her, like it always happens in these sort of places after the first few days. 

Finn had asked her before, on one of the cold nights they spent travelling across space, if this is not the definition of madness, doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Rey, laying next to her best friend in the dark, considered her words until she knew exactly what she wanted to say,

“Everything in the Universe works in cycles. Death and rebirth. Winter, followed by summer, followed by more cold. I think… I’m the blind leading the blind, but I think that we must keep making the same mistakes, in slightly different ways. I’ll take children and teach them, because the alternative is worse.”

Nowadays, Rey only speaks when she is absolutely certain. After the war was over and the Supreme Leader was gone, she spent three years in absolute silence, retreating inside herself. During those years, the stories about her only grew, legends about the Silent Maiden who saved them all. When she opened her mouth again, to ask for water after an ambush had almost left them all for dead were it not for an extraordinary show of strength on her end, then she could feel that her words held new power. Now, she uses it wisely.

In the cat planet, there are people with no red strings and after the first few days, while Finn and Poe are embroiled in diplomatic meetings and Rey is left alone to explore, they approach her cautiously, with gifts and gentle hands, rubbing her back, making her feel welcome in small ways. She asks kindly to treat her normally, using the Common Tongue, but they stare back blankly. They eventually explain, in the politely distant way of cats, that they are not treating her like this because she is the Silent Maiden, but because she has no red string. They pity her.

Rey nods, and does not take it personally. But after her day exploring the fragrant tangle of the jungle outside the city, walking the desert that binds it on the other margin, and splashing on the colorful sands on the shallows of the river, she walks back into the palace and she sees Rose and Finn and Poe, tangled in red string. The three of them are sharing a hammock in sleep, and her heart hurts so much at the sight that she is glad for it. She thought her ability to feel such pain was long gone.

She notices things about this planet, and carefully catalogues them as she walks it. For example, none of the children-kittens have red strings but when you focus and look at the sullen teenagers loitering outside the public theaters, you can see the faint pink strings that are starting to form around them. Teenagers are one of those things that are the same in every planet, and it amuses Rey to study them and make them slightly uncomfortable. 

Rey notices that older people in this planet do not speak to each other, they don’t talk in the meow-y language that they use to communicate with their delegation’s translator, when Common isn’t enough. Teenagers still meow though, and children too, and it takes Rey a day of wandering around the marketplace to understand the connection: they communicate through the Force, like Jedi knights used to do. Since they have the red strings connecting them, they are much more attuned to the Universe, and as their bonds grow stronger, they forsake their voices.

That day, Rey tentatively uses her mind to ask for a green jewel of an apple to a sales woman, who purrs with happiness at a stranger using their ways. Having someone answer her back, talking like this, with no words, is something that Rey is not used to in the silent cloister of her mind. It reminds her of something long forgotten, and there is a pang of longing in the middle of her. But there is a polite delicate feeling to the woman’s “voice”, a whole new grammar for Rey to learn, with its own rules. She feels like a brute when she talks back, but happy to know that there’s still so much for her to learn from the Force. It hums happily around her that day, making her forget her sorrow.

She takes the long way home from the market, walking the warm streets. The cat planet is warmed by a slightly rosy sun, that bathes the buildings of rough sandy rock, in pink light. A wide placid river runs through this capital, the water looks golden from the light but it is clear and fresh, and there are children along the margins that amuse themselves catching fish with their paws. They chirp and screech at each other playfully, but when Rey tentatively reaches out to them using the Force, she feels only silence. They are still closed to the universe, but still vocal and playful with each other. 

Rey walks on. Along the river there are thick patches of reeds that grow green and tall, and cat people alongside the margins are picking them for the paper they use for writing, for the thick cardboard slabs that decorate their homes, and for the baskets and other furniture that they weave and then casually destroy with their claws. The adults work in silence, in perfect sintony, but they smile with sharp teeth and scream at Rey when she walks by. Some of them even wave at her, and she waves back.

She is getting hot from the sun, so she removes her gray cloak and stuffs it inside the small bag on her back. She walks until she feels someone following her, and then smiles and walks on, until the city grows thinner and then is no more, just the river with the desert on one side and the jungle in the other. Eventually, up the river, she finds a place where a rock rises right in the middle of the current. She takes a minute to wipe the sweat from her brow, and then another minute to feel the quiet satisfaction of a job well done. Rey closes her eyes and feels the curiosity of the person following her, hears their heavy breathing even as they try to be stealthy.

Then, she jumps into the water, and swims against the current until she reaches the rock in the middle of the river. She climbs to its zenith and sits down on the hard surface, legs crossed, eyes closed. Then she waits.

She feels soft paws landing right beside her about 30 seconds later, and forces herself not to laugh.

“Did you take that long to reach me because you were avoiding the water?”

The cat, who has landed by Rey’s right side, freezes. They’re a teenager still, and they don’t have any fur as far as Rey can see, just soft silken pinkish skin with black splotches. It’s hard to tell gender in this planet, and normally Rey would wait and use the neutral forms of the common tongue, but something in the cat’s posture tells her that this wouldn’t be welcome. The girl cat is wearing white linen trousers, and a light top of the same material tied with intricate knots at the neck and the back. Like most people in this planet, she stands on two legs, and her ropey strong muscles can be clearly seen through her thin skin. Golden earrings decorate her sharp ears, and golden bangles shine on her neck, and on her wrists. Rey is not surprised when the girl replies in Common:

“I do not enjoy getting wet.”

“Were you really expecting to surprise  _ me _ , the Silent Maiden?”, Rey says jokingly, not really angry nor having to assert her dominance over this child, but she has learned from Luke that there is strength in pageantry. 

“No.” The cat replies honestly, and Rey likes this. “They all think you have no string.”

“Do they?”

“They are wrong.” She is a proper teenager, she even crosses her arms as she talks to Rey, confident in her absolute knowledge of the world. Rey doesn’t think that she was ever like this, but she knows that this is the foolishness of adults. She smiles kindly to the cat, scoots back in the sharp rock, and motions for the girl to sit down.

The cat does, sitting cross legged across from Rey, mirroring the Jedi’s pose. 

“So,” Rey says, making herself comfortable while looking into the slit irises of this sullen teen, “The strings. What do you think about them?”

The cat snarls, “You have one, they just can’t see it and they’re too dumb to know it.” 

The Silent Maiden is a patient one, but she still rolls her eyes and expels the air in her lungs in one long sigh, tired of listening to this girl peacocking on what she thinks is a big discovery. As if Rey herself would not know this.

“What answer will make you happy? Yes, I do have one.” The cat looks confused for a moment at her apathetic attitude towards this that is the symbol of adulthood and plenitude on this and so many other planets.

“Why… Why can’t anyone else see it?”, the girl’s voice is tiny now, and Rey feels it more than ears it, “Is there something wrong with me?”

Ah. All teenagers truly are the same. Rey straightens her back, and the girl across her mimics her movement instinctively. Then the Jedi master says,

“What is your name, girl?”

“I answer to Bastet.”

“A good name.”

It’s a goddess name. Rey thinks through her next words, breathes deeply.

“Bastet, there is nothing wrong with you. You are lucky that everyone in your planet is naturally attuned to a part of the Force, but you have a deeper sensibility to it. I’m sure you’ve felt it in other ways.” Rey pauses to measure the girls reaction, and Bastet is still perfectly still, like she has known this her whole life and was waiting for it to be confirmed. It’s not a bad reaction, so when the girl does not speak, Rey continues, “How do you know the Common Tongue?”

“I… I just do.” The girl seems hesitant now, which is a good sign, and the next words out of her mouth are so quick that they run into each other in a jumble, “I dreamed in Common, for a long time, I could ear people talking it, in my head. People that were not, could not be here. I… I threw a friend off a cliff last summer.”

The shame coming off Bastet at that last revelation is so deep that Rey can feel the ghost of it in her own stomach, making her feel acidic and nervous. This is also a good sign, this honesty, this openness. After more planets than she could count, and twelve years since the war ended, Rey allows herself some careful hope.

“Did you do it in anger?”

“Yes.”

“What did your friend say to you?”

“That girls can not be Jedi.”

Rey looks at Bastet, disbelieving what she hears. First, she laughs, but then her reaction is anger. She takes another breath, thinks back to her years of no words to try to find the ones to say now. She sees that Bastet’s feline eyes have tears in them, that she is stubbornly refusing to shed. Rey reminds herself, she was once like this too.

Rey closes her eyes, and feels Bastet doing the same. Both of them listen to the river rumbling beneath them, and Rey goes deeper, wider, feels the familiar pull of the Force and the dark places within it. She feels the extraordinary raw strength of the girl across from her, tangled and confused and lost. She feels Bastet’s breath fall into a rhythmic pattern, and the Force responding to it with the quiet satisfied hum of a well oiled machine. Only after this calm falls between them does Rey continue,

“What do you know about General Leia Organa?”

Bastet’s eyes open immediately, she meows a word that Rey does not know but the image for it arrives loud and clear through the Force,

_ Princess _ .

“Yes, she was Princess, too.” Rey concedes before adding, “And a girl as well. One of the strongest ones I have ever met, in the Force and in other ways.”

“Princess Leia was no Jedi.”

The whack to the back of Bastet’s head is swift, making her hiss in surprise and pain and bare her sharp teeth at Rey, who is laughing silently. Bastet didn’t even see the baton, that sits on the other woman’s back, ever move to strike her. 

“Bastet. Do not insult others’ intelligence if you are not willing to use your own.” Rey says, not unkindly, “No, Princess Leia was no Jedi Knight. How could she be? She had work to do, a Rebellion to fight, and hopefully a Republic to build. She had a son to raise.”

“She did a shit job at that too.”

This time, Bastet is expecting the baton to strike her again so that she can at least attempt to catch it and impress the Silent Maiden. She is testing her boundaries, Rey knows, and so she does not move against her the girl. Instead, she nods.

“Maybe she did. Maybe she did not. It’s not for us to judge, but it can be for you to understand, if you look outside yourself long enough to see your own ignorance.”

Somehow, this hurts Bastet more than the lump forming on the back of her head. 

Rey continues, “Princess Leia was no Jedi, but the Force isn’t property of the Jedi. The Force is the balance of the universe, which exists in all things. Your people’s red strings, for example. Your hidden language. Your dreams, Bastet. Am I wrong in thinking that you wish to learn more about the ways of the Force?”

“No.” Bastet’s answer is clear over the sound of the raging river, but there is uncertainty in her eyes as well, and Rey is happy to see it there. Someone who is too eager to start on this path is someone who should not be in it. “But… I’m scared.”

“As you should be. Shows that now you’re using your brain.” It pains Rey to hear Master Yoda in her own voice, but it also fills her with pride, that she allows herself to feel before letting it go. “Now, close your eyes again. I will show you what you’re afraid of.”

Bastet does, and like this, with their knees touching, on top of a rock, Rey helps her see the ways in which we are all connected. The jungle feeding on the river, the mad colorful desert sands that are kept at bay. The tangle of red strings that connect everyone in the planet, the children born for this, and the loves lost in time. The fish they catch from the river, the way these violent waters feed her people and how they in turn take care of it. She sees deep inside herself, the red darkness that made her angry at Seth, that made her lash out. When she comes to this hole inside herself, she wants to turn back and run away, she wants to cry at being unclean and unworthy, but there is Rey’s voice inside her, with her, saying, “Go on. That is the Force, too.”

There is power in that hole, a big chasm in the center of her with all the anger that she feels bubbling under her thin, dotted skin. She understands, this is part of her strength, but this can also eat her alive. Her heart is beating so fast she is sure she is about to die, that there is a monster in this hole and it will eat her up. But before the monster appears, there is Rey’s cold hand on her wrist, pulling her back.

“It’s enough Bastet.”

She starts crying then, and Rey holds her wrist the whole time while she is wracked with sobs at what she saw. When the girl finally quiets down, Rey says,

“Come by the palace tomorrow. We will talk more.”

* * *

 

“I may have found a pupil.”

Rey says at dinner that night. She is eating steamed vegetables and a light airy bread soaked in pink fragrant oil from the garden’s palm trees. She had forsaken meat even before she had given up on talking, and never returned to it, having found out that it makes her more attuned to the world around her. The others are feasting on fresh roasted fish from the river, which the translator eats raw off his claws. At her words, their translator and guide dissolves himself in praise at the Silent Maiden for her mercy, for having picked her student from their own humble planet, what an honor, what a dream come true for this simple people. Rey struggles with her anger, thinks that she would love to make him shut up, then lets this thought flow like water from the river.

Poe, however, silences the fat calico cat with one gesture of his hand, and looks at Rey cautiously.

“Are you sure?” 

There are a lot of questions inside this one. While Poe is asking, “are you sure”, Finn is suddenly looking at his fish like it’s the most important in the world. They probably have discussed this behind her back, the folly of the Jedi and this kooky old religion of hers. They still doubt her, even when she brought them miracles. Even when she forsake almost everything, for them.

But, all of it has been destroyed before, by stories much like the one she wishes to start again.

“No, I am not sure.” 

Rey doesn’t abide by many of the old Jedi creeds, and she is sure that she is ignorant of even more rules that she would ignore even if she did know them. But she has also made new commandments for herself, for this order of one. The most important of which is, Do Not Tell Lies.

“I am not sure”, she continues, “but I feel the Force very strongly in this girl. She is not happy here. She may hurt herself in her strength and confusion, and she may hurt others as well.”

There is silence around the table, as Poe considers her words. They live in a Republic, with a governing council, and obviously Poe Dameron’s word is not the final one in the Universe. But Rey still refers to him, she respects him and trusts him in all things. But there are things that Poe does not understand, and Rey will not let him ruin this. Even the fat cat feels the awkward silence and seems to not know what to say to Rey’s admission of ignorance, even as he’s looking very satisfied. To finally break the uncomfortable silence, the cat asks:

“Tell us, Master Rey, what is this talented girl’s name?”

“Bastet. One of your people, no more than fifteen. Still a child.”

The fat cat almost chokes on his food, and both Finn and Poe are very interested now, but before the cat can talk, Rose interrupts him, “Rey. That is the Princess of this palace. The heir to the throne of this planet.”

Poe’s face at that revelation is a wide grin, and because Rey has fought alongside this man, and knows him better than most, she knows that he thinks both that this is terrible for their diplomatic efforts, and also that this may be great fun. She soaks the rest of her bread in pink oil and relished eating it while looking at their guide’s wide eyes, before saying:

“Good thing the galaxy is a Republic now.”

* * *

 

At dawn, Rey wakes up with Bastet awkwardly standing next to one of the marble columns that surrounds the interior garden. Sleeping in enclosed spaces makes Rey feel restless and unsafe, so, even though this palace has light and air flowing freely through it, she still choose a hammock between two palm trees. She wakes as soon as she feels Bastet enter the space, and slithers out of the high hanging bed so that she can watch what the cat will do. 

She is secretly pleased when her would-be student climbs a tree and blends in with the shadows, to look for her and try to surprise her. Pride is a strong, difficult emotion in a Jedi, as it can easily be used to manipulate and fall into the dark side, but it’s also a powerful learning tool, the deconstruction of it.

Rey climbs higher in her palm tree, and purposefully uses the Force to rustle the leaves on the other side of the garden. She watches as Bastet, now fully engrained in the shadows under a giant sunflower, turns her head toward the noise, giving Rey the time to softly tap the girl on the shoulder, before disappearing again in the middle of the vegetation, with a soft laugh.

Bastet hisses, “I thought you wanted to teach me, not play cat and mouse.”

Pride, again.

Rey throws a mango at the girl, for good measure, and is again pleased when Bastet avoids it easily and the fruit splatters on the rose marble floor. The girl is strong, finely attuned to the Force, probably as a consequence of living in this planet that has such strong, good, balance. Jumping easily to a nook in a marble column, Rey tries to not consider what would have happened to this girl if she had grown somewhere much more cruel, darker, harsher and drier. 

Like Jakkur, like Tatooine.

Taking advantage of Rey’s distraction, Bastet quickly climbs up the opposite column to the one where the Silent Maiden is perched. Rey allows herself to come into the pink light of dawn, and looks into the golden eyes of the cat-girl, with a smile.

“You caught me.”

“You allowed yourself to be caught”, Bastet huffs, but she looks pleased. Even though she is perilously perched on a cat shaped indentation in the column, she bows graciously to Rey, exposing the back of her neck to the Jedi. “Master Rey. I am here to learn.”

“Are you, Princess of Kom-Ombo? I thought you were here to become a ruler, someday.”

Bastet looks ashamed at the revelation of her origins, but she straightens from her bow and looks directly at Rey’s eyes, before saying in a trembling voice:

“How can I rule when I’m afraid I’ll hurt my people?”

Without answering her, Rey jumps down directly from her column to the ground, landing on her feet and not waiting to see if her pupil does the same as she continues walking towards the dining area.

“Come on then, Princess. Let’s break bread and talk.” 

Shoulder to shoulder, Rey and Bastet make their way through the palace wide white and rose corridors. The girl cat is wearing a complicated silk dress that exposes her back, with multiple ties. The silk is dyed a beautiful golden rose hue that moves like water. She wears more gold today, on her ears and neck, and on her delicate wrists. Even though she is just a girl, she is experimenting with dressing like a grown up, but not yet like a Jedi. Bastet walks in confidence alongside Rey, and even though the student should fall behind the Master, Rey doesn’t correct her. She wants to know this girl princess better, and this is part of it, the way Bastet walks like the world will naturally open up before her. To Rey’s surprise, the princess doesn’t go down to the dining area, but instead turns right to the kitchens, and as Rey follows her with an inquisitive raised eyebrow, the girl blushes to her sharp ears and says,

“Children are not allowed to eat in the dining room… But you can still go if you prefer, Master.”

Rey chuckles softly and waves her hand, dismissing her concerns.

“Your palace is beautiful, Bastet, but I’m more comfortable in the kitchens. Is this why you had to follow me for us to meet?”

The girl seems embarrassed and doesn’t reply. When she walks in the kitchen all the cat servants, with luscious coats of fur in all colors, fuss over their princess and her guest. Rey sits at the tall rough kitchen table just as one old fat cat pinches Bastet’s cheek. Their soft meows drown the sounds of cooking, and their red strings make their movements look like a dance. Bastet is still considered a child, so they meow at her even though Rey is certain that, if she wanted, the younger girl would be able to communicate through the Force like her elders. She does not, instead she lets herself be fussed with until she is red and embarrassed enough to hiss, and sits with crossed arms, across Rey.

“They want to know why I didn’t warn them they would have a guest.”

Rey sends feelings of gratitude, sunshine and happiness at the elder cats, and they purr in response, showing her images of the feast they could offer her. She raises her hands and silently shows her the fruits she craves, fragrant and beautiful. Violently orange mangoes, and pineapples with sweet golden flesh. She sends them the smell of bread freshly baked, with more of that delicious pink delicate oil, and sprinkles of salt on top. Maybe the idea of tea is brought up, something she hasn’t had in too long, a properly made infusion with boiling water and dried mint leaves. When Rey is finished, all the cats are purring and the kitchen even smells like the foods she’s invoking. Bastet is purring too, but she snaps herself and the others out of it with a sharp meow so the servants get moving, before she looks at Rey with disapprovement:

“Your communication is too strong, Master. You… Maybe not so much?”

Rey blushes, feeling chided even as the older cats pet her like she’s a precious thing, and start busying themselves to bring her food.

“I’m sorry. It’s still new to me, this form of talking. Maybe you can teach me how I can be gentler with it, like you do. It’s beautiful.”

Bastet scoffs, “I can’t do it yet. And you’re the most powerful being in the galaxy, if all the stories are true. What do this kitchen servants have to teach you?”

A very old tabby cat brings Rey a delicate glass cup filled to the brim with steaming tea, with a delicious smell, not quite mint but similar enough. She controls her Force and gently nudges the thought of gratitude onto the old cat, who chirps in response. Then, Rey turns to her student and flexes her mind, making a wooden spoon smack Bastet’s paw, and the cat girl hiss.

“If you can’t learn anything new from these women, how can you learn from me?” 

The cat girl at least as the decency to look down at her plate and act contrived, even though she doesn’t seem convinced. Rey eats without expecting an answer to her question, and as she gets more used to the thrill of communicating through the Force, she realizes that there is chatter in the kitchen. Soft mumbling, about food, and images about Rey herself. She can see how she looks to these old cats, through their gossip. A stranger, not much taller than them. Fur-less, this thought comes with a critical tone, and Rey absentmindedly rubs at her head, where the hair she shaves routinely is already growing back in a soft fuzz. The images that the cats are trading show her older than what Rey remembers being, and taller, leaner and more graceful than what she feels. Then, one the younger servants, with a secret smile, shows Rey young and with long hair, lightsaber in hand and eyes shining blue, slaying the Supreme Leader. In this image, she is the Silent Maiden, strong and pure and good, filled with righteous anger. He is a scared boy, cowering away from her on the floor. 

She closes her mind to the gossip in a hurry, and tries to center herself again. Breathe. She keeps this panicky rabbity feeling close to her heart, and the women around her seem unaware that anything changed. But Bastet is watching her closely, with hooded eyes.

“Did you do it, then? Did you kill him?”

Rey doesn’t dignify that with an answer, she raises from her seat and walks out of the kitchen, without turning to see if the cat girl is following her.

She takes her anger and turns it into energy. Goes out walking again, even as she feels Bastet following behind. Today, she decides, she will go into the jungle. 

Known as one of the crown jewels of Kom-Ombo, the jungle has no name but sprawls, luscious and alive and always growing, from the edge of the city until the ocean miles away. For the city of Kom-Ombo to survive, they rely on the desert winds, that keep the vegetation from growing too wild. There is a delicate balance there, and the city thrives on it. As Rey strides towards the jungle, cats giver her concerned looks, and she can now feel the whispers in the air. Danger, they say. Crazy. 

Everywhere on the streets she sees people walking in pairs, or red strings extending far beyond her eyes. It looks peaceful and safe, and beautiful.

So Rey keeps walking until the edge of town bleeds into the greens, purples, blues, of the vegetation here. She takes a deep breathe, feels that Bastet is still following behind, and then keeps walking.

There is a quiet here, and water running nearby, towards the river. Everywhere there are new plants to look at, new interesting animals, but Rey focuses on the pull of her muscles, as she opens a path through the thick wall of vegetation. Every hour that passes, the jungles gets thicker and harder to walk in. There are tumbled trees, giants really, and giants insects that feed on their decaying bark. Rey is wearing comfortable clothes, thick leggings and boots, and a lightweight tunic that she’s already sweating through. But Bastet, who is still following her, was wearing her gold and princess clothes, and is barefoot. Rey still hasn’t looked back, but sometimes she slows down so that the Princess, who is now breathing hard and making a lot of noise, can catch up with her.

After the first hour of trekking through the jungle, Rey isn’t even angry anymore, but she’s remembering when she was the one following Luke Skywalker in the lost island. She’s still smiling to herself three hours later, as the terrain gets steeper, and she can feel that they are now starting the climb to the mountains that she could see from the spacecraft when they landed on this planet. 

Rey finally stops at the foothill of the mountain, sitting down in a giant fallen tree that has already been half eaten by time and is now smooth and comfortable. She takes the sack she has been carrying and unwraps the bread she brought, a kind of plumpy tart nightshade fruit, and a strong cheese that the cats wrapped in cloth for her. She also has mushrooms, but she decides to save them for later, maybe she’ll even build a fire and cook them directly in the coals. She is drinking water from her flask when Bastet finally falls through the clearing where Rey is waiting. Her feet look wounded and miserable-looking already, and she has cuts and mosquito bites on her exposed back and arms. She falls to her knees breathing hard in front of Rey, bending till her forehead touches the floor.

There is a long moment where the only sound, other than the birds flying over them, is of Bastet trying to breathe normally again. Then the cat straightens her back and looks directly into Rey’s eyes:

“I’m sorry, Master. I just… I’m used to saying whatever I want, and for consequences to be few. I won’t forget this lesson again. Please continue teaching me.”

Rey looks at the girl in front of her, her perfectly straight back, the way she still holds herself royally even as her pretty clothes are almost in tatters. She can see the veins pulsing beneath the girl’s thin skin, and the muscles trembling in her thighs. This is not real humility yet, that will come later. But it’s a start, and so Rey gives her water flask to the girl, who drinks greedily until she drains the entire bottle.

“That was unfortunate. Now we’ll have to climb the mountain with no more water.” The girl is about to fall over herself in apologies again, but quiets at Rey’s corresponding shrug and soft smile, “It will be worse for you than for me, Princess.”

She breaks her bread and gives a piece to the girl, who tries to eat it slowly but fails miserably. Then Rey divides her cheese and fruit in the same way, and they eat in comfortable, and tired, silence.

Bastet breaks it eventually, when she timidly asks, “Master, why do you not eat meat? Is it because a Jedi should not kill?”

Rey’s first instinct is to say that this is a very roundabout way to ask the true question that Bastet wants to know. But instead, she pensively bites into her peach, letting the juice run down her chin before answering slowly:

“The Force is balance. Death and life are both part of it, and are both natural. You must never kill someone unarmed, an innocent, or kill in revenge. Killing in violence, taking a life before its time, it… It creates an unbalance, and should be avoided, but it’s not forbidden. Just as it’s not forbidden to kill so that you can feed, as long as you respect your prey and don’t take more than you need.”

“So, why did you abstain in the banquet we had in your honor?”

Rey smiles, she wasn’t sure if she was being watched since she got to the planet. This girl in front of her is so desperate for a teacher, it makes something in Rey want to be all those things fo her. 

“I abstained because I do not need meat to survive. I didn’t kill the animals myself. There were other things at the table.” She hesitates, before continuing, “I think you should not make that same choice, as your people are carnivores.”

“Will that make me a worse Jedi?”

Her first instinct is to strike this prideful, headstrong girl again. But there is an admission of guilt here, weakness. Rey has spent most of her adult life praying that she wouldn’t make the exact same mistakes as the ones who have walked this path before her. So, instead of harshness, she gives kindness, places a hand on Bastet’s shoulder before saying:

“No, it will not. A lot of Jedi have killed, we’re a warrior class, and such is the nature of battle. But there is balance there as well, a rightness, like those children we saw yesterday, eating the fish the river provides.”

Her student bows her head, and they finish eating in silence. When her student asks again,

“Did you kill Kylo Ren?”

Rey smiles wearily, packs the rest of their things, and turns back to the mountain so they can resume their hike.

The stone of the mountain is gray only in the surface, pinkish and white with golden veins underneath it, in the places where Rey creates sulcs to help their path. The mountain is not too tall, Rey is trying to teach the girl, not kill her. But it’s not a easy climb, with places where they have to bound from rock to rock. Rey can tell that, about half the way up, Bastet’s soft padded feet start bleeding, and the girl starts crying silently. But she doesn’t ask to stop, doesn’t turn back and doesn’t give up. 

They make it to the top at the same time. The soil here is rocky but soft green grass grows in patches, and the winds are strong and smell of the nearby-ocean. Goats eat the grass and seagulls scream from above. The sea is a placid greenish mirror in the horizon, so different from the island that marked Rey’s own short education. The Silent Maiden goes right to the edge of the rock and opens her arms, feeling the wind on her sweaty skin. She feels Bastet standing next to her, and opening her arms, breathing deeply by her side. They stay like this for a moment, open armed, with the red rays of the setting sun on their clothes. 

When Rey opens her eyes again, Bastet is already looking at her. She has dried her tears and is smiling openly. She looks so young and unprotected that Rey’s heart breaks a bit. The path she wants to start walking will not be kind to her. 

Without a word, Rey turns and starts to make a small fire, while the goats bleat in alarm around her. Bastet tries to help, she finds a nascent and fills the flask with cold cold water, after drinking avidly from it. Her hands are a mess, and her feet are killing her. But she feels more at peace with her place in the universe than she ever felt in the palace. She looks at Rey and sees a proper future for herself, instead of the death and despair that her dreams show she’ll bring to her own people. 

Rey cooks the mushrooms directly in the coals, with salt and fresh herbs from the mountain, and the charred morsels are the most delicious thing Bastet has ever eaten. They share the last of the bread and cheese while they watch the sun going down over the sea in silence. But when they finish eating, Bastet is fidgety. She has so many questions, but she’s afraid to make Rey turn away again. She’s still thinking what would be safe to say, when her Master starts:

“Did you know that there’s never been a Jedi from your people?”

Bastet’s heart tightens in her chest. She’ll be turned away. She’s not good enough for this, she was too stubborn and impolite, and she doesn’t deserve this. She looks at her mangled hands and feet, her torn dress, but Rey has mercy on the girl and continues speaking in her slow, methodical way:

“At least, that’s what I can find out from the few records that were not destroyed. And from asking Master Yoda.” Bastet thought that Yoda was dead, but she doesn’t want to interrupt this moment atop the mountain, she doesn’t want to hurry her rejection. “I wondered, when I arrived, how that be when you are all so connected to the Force. Then, I watched, and I learned. Do you know why it is?”

It’s starting to grow dark, and over the beach, the city, even some places in the jungle, Bastet can start to see the faint glow of all their red strings. It forms a beautiful grid of light.

“It’s the string, isn’t it.”

Rey nods,

“Yes. Do you know about the code of the Jedi?”

Bastet is about to start talking, but then she considers again. Rey’s strange cadence is catching, and she doesn’t want to speak and be wrong, so she closes her mouth and shakes her head, no.

“Ah, no one told me either, except in whispers in dreams.” Bastet can ear the smile in her words “A Jedi shall deny his family, remain chaste, hold no land or title, never kill in anger or seek revenge. This is basically it. Do you see how a people who can see with their own eyes that their soulmate exists, that there is not only a chance for connection, but absolute certainty of it, might not want to abide by this code?”

“So the strings made us weak.”

Rey actually smacks her on the back of her head again, making Bastet rub it, annoyed.

“Maybe this is the problem, your skull is too thick. The strings don’t make you weak. They make you wiser, less willing to surrender your life for a chance at glory. You see the Force everyday, you can see its balance in each and every one of you. Why would you choose to give up that? To be as blind as everyone else in this galaxy?

You asked me, are there no women Jedi, and I told you about Leia, but you must know that, in many ways, women are like cats. We feel the Force in everything we do, but it’s a lot harder for a woman to give up on family. To give up on love. And for what? There is honor in being a Jedi, in protecting the balance of the universe. But there's also honor in a mother's love, in giving yourself to care for something bigger than you, for your family. Love is part of the Force that holds the Universe together, it’s the very thing we’re sworn to protect. The Jedi thought turning away from it made them stronger, but it made them inflexible, cruel. It was almost the end of us.”

Rey is not used to talking this long, but Bastet is drinking her words up, and so she gets a small pot from her bag and she brews strong tea for them. They drink it directly from the pot, passing it between them. Eventually, Rey starts talking again. She tells the story of Anakin Skywalker, like she heard from Luke after he died, through the Force. She tells it like it’s her own, because it is. The story of a boy who grew up in a desert, who never knew nothing but hate and harshness, and sand. The story of a boy who wanted love so badly, that it destroyed him. 

“I don’t know if the Jedi code was different, if it would’ve changed anything for him. Maybe it was too late already, maybe he was poisoned. Maybe the evil was always inside him, waiting for an excuse to come out, and maybe the only answer for evil things is to kill them. But Darth Vader was only stopped by compassion and love. He was just a sad, scared man behind a mask, in the end.”

After her story is over, Rey lays her cloak on the ground and gestures for Bastet to lie down in it. It’s no use to go down the mountain now, and the night is warm and nice. Up here, they can see the stars above, almost the whole of the galaxy. It’s beautiful. The cat girl curls up in herself, and looks at her mentor with half closed yellow eyes. She’s about to fall asleep, but she mumbles,

“Master Rey… Did you kill Kylo Ren?”

Rey sighs, “At the end of the week, I’ll be leaving and you’ll have a choice to make. You either come with me, or you stay here and become a Princess. If you come with me, I’ll teach you as much as I can, and I will learn from you as much as I can. If you stay here, I will not be able to help you. Now, sleep. We have a long way down tomorrow.”

* * *

 

She dreams of Ben that night under the stars. 

It’s like the old dreams she used to have, when they were young and not yet committed to destroying one another. There is nothing dreamlike about it, other than the fact that he’s suddenly where he should not be, and that she knows, with the certainty of dreams, that she is still asleep on the cold hard ground, surrounded by goats and with the warmth of Bastet curled up next to her. 

She opens her eyes and he’s there, sitting by the dying embers of the fire, poking at the coals with a stick. It makes him look like a boy. It makes her heart ache. Rey gets up slowly and makes her way to the fire, sitting across from him. Now that she’s older, her bones hurt sometimes when she sleeps outside, where old wounds have not healed properly. With bitterness, she notices that he has not aged. His eyes are the same, intense and dark reflecting the light of the coals. His hair and posture reminds her of those sullen teenagers by the river, and there is tenderness in this thought as well.

He looks so young, he says,

“I’ve been waiting for you. When are you coming back to me?”

“When I’m ready to die, darling.”

He snarls, “You left me alone in the dark. Alone! If you killed me, it would’ve been kinder. Aren’t you a Jedi?”

In her dreams of him, anger comes to her easily, like breathing. 

“And when have Jedi ever been known only for their kindness? You were a snake, a poison, a cancer. You don’t deserve a good death.”

He smiles, and there is mischief there. Warmth pools in her stomach. So much time wasted trying to hate each other, only to fail so miserably.

“Ah, you do still care, if you’re calling me a cancer.”

She rolls her eyes and makes her way towards him, sitting next to him and closer to the fire. Slowly, she takes his hand in hers, and presses herself against him, laying her head on his shoulder and allowing herself this for only a moment. He tightens the grip on her hand, and turns his head to kiss her forehead. He smells like smoke, sweat, blood. Like he smelled when they fought together in that red room.

“Don’t you want to look into your student’s dreams? Do you want to know how she dreams of death and destruction and turning this god forsaken planet into a conqueror again, reclaiming the place of her people in the galaxy? She will be your end, just like I was Luke Skywalker’s end.”

She sighs and untangles herself from him, smiling.

“You really are a snake. I will not make the same mistakes as my teacher, and she will not make the same mistakes as Ben Solo. Now, go back to sleep.”

Rey leans forward, and presses her lips to his in a chaste kiss. They only ever kissed in dreams, they only ever touched in dreams. There was never time for anything else, and there is no time now either. Ben fades away, and the red string that tied their hands fades with him.

Rey, feeling old and exhausted, goes back to lay next to Bastet. Her pupil is twitching in her sleep, frowning, but when Rey places a soft hand on the girls head her brow relax and she breathes more easily. The Jedi Master focuses on her breathing, and soon the sleeping girl falls into the same pattern.

“We will make our own mistakes, I promise you, Bastet.”

* * *

“You will not take our princess!”

The fat calico cat is screeching at Poe, while Rey looks on trying to look bored. Bureaucracy and diplomacy are not her strong points, and that’s why Poe is stuck “negotiating” for her. They’ve been in this room for hours. Rose, who was there at the beginning, has already excused herself to “check on the spaceship”, which, in Rose-speak, means “if I don’t leave right now, I will punch this person”. King Sobek, Bastet’s mother, still hasn’t said a word, letting her furry friend do all the talking for her. But now that Rey knows the silent language of cats, she can easily hear the rage the King is sending to her messenger. How dare these foreigners come tell her that she was wrong in how to raise her daughter?

The negotiations are not going well, and tomorrow morning they must leave. As soon as they came down from the mountain, a horde of handlers took Bastet away to be cleaned and cared for, and Rey was sent to a very nice closed room with guards up front.

Her temper did flare up at the arrogance of these people, thinking that two guards would stop her from going anywhere she wanted. So she sat in her cell cross legged and meditated on humility until she was bored and restless with herself and she felt like punching something.

It was good that by then Poe and Finn were coming to get her, screaming about diplomatic immunity, and they were called to a hearing with the queen.

So far, it’s not going well.

“For the last time, we are not stealing any Princess. We are here to establish commercial trades, to discuss taxes, to meet your wonderful people. Rey is a valuable member of our Council, and if she says…”

“She says nothing! She has been with us for a week and said nothing of substance, except now to tell us that the princess will be taken away tomorrow?”

Poe is looking like he will punch someone soon, and Finn is not here to diffuse the tension. Poe and Rey are both terrible at de escalation, and it’s a bit dangerous that they were both left to handle this. The commander looks at her pleading silently for her to intervene, and finally Rey raises her hand, in what she hopes is a calming gesture.

“Enough. Do you think I just go around the galaxy, stealing children to join my cult? Bastet found me, she came to me because she was scared.” Rey turned directly to the silent King, and even though she kept her speech in Common, she also tried her best to speak to the other woman through the Force, “She is becoming a woman, and her power will only grow stronger. If she doesn’t learn how to control it, she will only hurt herself more, and she may even hurt others, like what happened to Seth.”

The King moves then, raises from her seat and comes closer to Rey, her sharp cat face almost touching the Jedi’s. The King is hairless like Bastet, but her skin is pink and light all over, instead of dotted, and her nose is wide and gives her an alien expression. Her eyes are fully black and angry. Rey doesn’t back away, keeps her posture straight and reminds herself that she has faced worse things than an angry mother.

The King sends her images, the boy is fine they say, it was just children playing. Her own daughter is dramatic, volatile, she blows things out of proportion. The boy landed on his feet, of course, and as soon as his leg mended he was knocking at the palace doors again, wanting to play with the princess. She turned him away, locked herself in her room till Rey arrived. This is a passing fancy, like many others the Princess has had. 

“King Sobek,” Rey bows to no one, but she still maintains her tone respectful, “Your daughter is incredibly powerful, and this will not go away just because you’re determined to ignore it. She may choose to turn away from the Force, and to never be taught, but it will probably destroy her. A fever will burn her to the ground, and even if she survives, she’ll come back scarred, and her connection to the Force will be broken. She either dies or she’ll never be able to be an adult in your society. Is this what you want for your daughter?”

The King breaks eye contact, and Rey allows herself compassion, and puts a hand on the women’s bony shoulder, trying to convey how important it is that Bastet is allowed to be taught.

“It’s true, if she comes with me she’ll never rule. But she’ll live. And she’ll come back, if she wants to. I won’t make her deny her family, the place where she comes from.”

The King says bitterly, Those are the rules of the Jedi, and Rey laughs then, before saying,

“Those are not my rules.”

And the King does smile at that, and then places her hand on Rey’s opposite shoulder. If you were viewing them from above, you would see a perfect square

It’s my daughter’s choice now.

* * *

 

Seth is at the palace gates again.

A servant comes to Bastet’s quarters to tell her this, but the girl already knew. She thought that finding a Jedi master would be the answer to all her troubles, or at least that she would stop feeling so unmoored. But talking to Rey only seems to bring even more questions. Bastet always saw the world in resolute black and white, she imagined her rage and confusion as a black hole in her chest. Rey talks like everything in her world is slightly different shades of gray, and all she can do is choose the lightest of these.

Instead of finding wisdom in it, Bastet thinks it’s awfully confusing, and infuriating.

Seth is at the palace gates, and Bastet’s hands are a mess, and her feet are worse, bandaged and swollen. Her dainty thin wrists are swollen too, from the effort of climbing, and she isn’t wearing any of her gold. She knows, in a theoretical sort of way, that being a Jedi means getting rid of these shiny baubles that bring her happiness. But being allowed to dress like a grown up is relatively new to her, she wants to look more like her mother and not like the Silent Maiden.

She puts on her simplest clothes, the ones she wore as a child and shed just last year. A cotton tunic, and loose pants. She refuses to look at herself in the mirror, and makes her away towards the gates.

If she has grown since she last saw him, Seth has grown twice as much, maybe because he’s a year older. He is lanky and long, but his black fur is the same, his eyes shine the same green, and his smile is unchanged.

Bastet stays inside the gate, she feels like crossing that line to meet her childhood friend would be too much. But she can’t control herself, she says,

“I’m going away to be a Jedi.”

Even though she hasn’t actually made that choice yet. Even though now, looking at Seth, it seems like less of a done deal than it seemed hours ago, when she was back from the mountain and filled with peace. Still, she continues, “You can’t stop me.”

“Why would I want to stop you, Princess? I guess I should apologize.” Even though his tone is light, he bows his head, “I’m sorry I said girls could not be Jedi.”

“I’m sorry you said that, too” she says haughtily, but he just laughs like a boy and starts to turn away.

She doesn’t want him to leave. She wants him to go away and never look at her again. She feels both too grown up, and too much like a child.

Bastet takes a step back and jumps the gate, even though she feels the wounds in her feet reopening at the motion. She stands by his side, surprising even herself, but now she’s there and she finds herself unable to turn away. He’s grinning at her, and Bastet thinks of asking Rey what is the Jedi policy on punching smug cats.

“Are you coming down to the river with me, then?”

She shrugs, feigning disinterest, but he bumps playfully into her before they fall into the same cadence, walking side by side. Soon enough he’s telling her jokes, making her laugh. Seth is the son of a palace engineer and a fish market lady, so he knows all the best gossip. He’s smart and quick witted, he makes friends easy and everyone stops him in the streets for a hello, a handshake. Bastet, their princess, gets respect and head bows, but none of that easy friendship.

When they arrive at the colorful sands, she sits and removes her bandages so that she can submerge her feet in the cold river water, and she notices Seth watching her with serious, dark eyes.

“What are you looking at?”

“How did you do that to your feet?” He sits next to her but, to her horror, puts his hand in the water to rub softly at her swollen ankles.

Her voice sounds strangled, but she still gets out, “Master Rey took me out to climb the Serbal.”

He keeps rubbing her ankle, and then her foot, even as she hisses in pain. It feels good, with the cold water, but it also feels excessively intimate.

“Are you serious, then? Will you run away to become the next Silent Maiden?”

Bastet feels like smacking him, and wonders if this is what Rey feels when she says something stupid, but then Seth looks up and his eyes meets hers, and what she sees there takes her breath away.

She doesn’t need to look down to see the red string tying them together, his wrist to her ankle. She feels it in her bones now, and to her horror she also feels tears in her eyes. But even before they fall, his hand is there to wipe them away, and then he kisses her. Briefly. Softly.

“I can’t go.”

She says, and to her horror, she knows that it’s the absolute truth. He’s crying too, smiling through the tears, and then he says,

“You must. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being thrown off cliffs.”

“I’ll come back.”

I promise, they both say.

* * *

 

She runs back to the palace soon after that, her red string unravelling behind her.

Bastet finds Rey as she’s trying to sneak back into the palace undetected. She thinks she’s being sneaky, merging with the shadows in empty hallways, and suddenly she turns right into the older woman. Not even a drop of Rey’s tea is spilled from her mug. Bastet feels panicky, trapped, but then she reminds herself that she is a Princess of her people, she did nothing wrong, and she raises her chin in defiance just as Rey sees the red string and smiles at her student. 

“So, the boy from the cliff?”

The princess gasps, “How did you know that?”

Rey walks towards the inner garden, clearly expecting Bastet to follow, which she does. “I sensed it through the Force”, Rey says but when she sees the girl’s eyes widen, she adds “Bastet, breathe, you threw the boy off a cliff. It was obvious.”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but I think it's _very_ stupid.”

They walk silently through the garden, while Rey sips her tea and takes one last look at this open, beautiful palace. After some time, her pupil says,

“You really didn’t kill him, did you?”

With the moonlight on her, Rey looks younger and also older than she ever did. Bastet can see the freckles on the woman’s face, and the fine lines in her eyes. It occurs to her, for the first time, that the Silent Maiden is also a person, that she suffered and loved and still continued on living. 

“Your string looks different than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s not just missing, like people who have lost their other half. And it’s not faded like in teenage kittens…”

“So you’re not a teenage kitten anymore then.” Rey jokes but Bastet refuses to be distracted, eyeing her teacher with caution.

“I see your string, Master Rey, as a black thing. It’s not dead, and it’s not faded and at peace either. It’s decayed and ugly, because… It’s Kylo Ren, isn’t it?”

Rey looks up to the trees that are growing up and past the palace walls, and she feels like climbing them again, but she knows herself well enough to know that this is her instinct to run away, to fidget and doubt herself. She tells herself, this is fine, this is what I know. She looks at Bastet, a girl on the edge of womanhood, and she remembers how dumb and lost she was at that age, how desperate for a connection.

“No, I didn’t kill him. Could you have killed Seth, today? I know you threw him off a cliff, but could you even kill him then, or was it a coincidence that he landed safely on sand and not on the rocks below?”

Bastet blushes and looks down at her shoes, but Rey stops her with a gentle hand on her chin.

“It’s not weakness to love, Bastet. But it can’t blind you either. You must be strong, and good, above all else. So no, I did not kill him. I locked him away and I made sure he could never hurt anyone else, and I almost destroyed him, and I tried as much as I could to destroy the ties that bind us, but I could not kill him.”

“I would’ve killed him, I think.”

“Some would argue that it would make you the better Jedi.”

They stand there in silence for a bit, as Rey drinks the rest of her tea, until Bastet starts shivering from the night breeze, and the Jedi quietly escorts her to her rooms. At the door, Rey says:

“Have you made your decision, Bastet? Once we’re out there, you’ll no longer see your string. Maybe it will seem less important, more like a passing fancy. I imagine that, given some time, you’ll be as blind to it as the rest of the universe. Will you still come and learn?”

The girls looks around them, at the beautiful marble palace in the blue-purple light of the stars. 

“Yes, I think I will. Were you serious about letting me break Jedi code? About me returning here?”

Rey smiles,

“Bastet, how many Jedis do you see here?”

The cat girl smiles back, the red string tying around her wrist glowing faintly in the dark.

“Just you, Master Rey.”

“Then, who’s going to stop us?”

The next day, the girl who would be King boards the ship, and begins her education. 


End file.
